"But--but won't you come in and have your tea with me ?" The old man shook his head; but his eyes, taking in the comfort of the tiny, fire-lit room, the aspect of home, grew wistful; besides, there was a note of entreaty in the invitation; and "Thank you," he said, simply.
With a nod of satisfaction Celia insisted upon his taking the easy chair, gave him a cup of tea--"Three lumps, please," he said--and seated herself opposite him and smiled on him with the sweetness that is as indefinable as it is irresistible.

Mr.Clendon, who played in the orchestra at the Hilarity Theatre of Varieties, just below Brown's Buildings, being a gentleman as well as a broken-down fiddler, was conscious of, and appreciated, the subtle manner.

He sat quite silent for a time, then, as his eyes wandered to the violets, he said: "They smell of the country." Celia nodded.

"Yes; that is why I bought them.

It doesn't often run to the luxury of flowers; but I could not resist them." "You are fond of the country ?" he said.
"Oh, yes!" she responded, turning her eyes to the fire.